


Patience and Perversions

by Harukami



Category: DRAMAtical Murder, DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:49:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2846651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harukami/pseuds/Harukami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba leaves Ren wanting, but that just gives him some benefits to reap when he comes home.</p><p>This is my <a href="http://dmmdsecretsanta.tumblr.com/">dmmd-secretsanta</a> fic for <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/ruffruffren/gifts">Ruffruffren</a>!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patience and Perversions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruffruffren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruffruffren/gifts).



Since Aoba's started to listen to Desire again, things have gotten a little spicier, sex-wise. It had started out fairly straightforward, but as time goes on, as they get used to their relationship and each other, Desire pipes up more and more with suggestions.

At first Aoba ignores them, of course. He's gotten much better about not ignoring _Desire_ , but that doesn't mean that he needs to follow up on every dirty suggestion. Desire's satisfied with it -- or at least, tolerates it -- so long as he knows Aoba's acknowledging him, listening to the things he's suggesting enough _to_ respond with scandal and embarrassment. 

And as _he_ gets used to being listened to, his suggestions begin to hit home more and more. Aoba's not sure if it's because he's grown accustomed to Desire or if it's because Desire has relaxed, begun to suggest things which are more up his metaphorical alley. One way or another, the way they're understanding each other more and more is something that's curling deep in his stomach, turning him on at the worst times.

So he blurts it out eventually, because he's getting ready for work and his dick is hard and Desire suggests something with the intensity of a lover draping around him and whispering into his ear: "Uh... hey, Ren?"

"Aoba?" Ren looks up from his magazine, rubbing his eyes. He likes to read, but too much time looking at the small print bothers him, and his eyes grow tired easily. "What is it?"

Aoba opens his mouth, closes it, feels himself go red. _I can't_...

( _You can_ ), Desire purrs inside him.

"Can I ...come on your face?"

As soon as he says it, he cringes. It's just too far, he thinks immediately, mortified. Ren is going to be embarrassed, or, worse, just confused. What exactly does he do if Ren asks _Why_??

Ren slowly puts his magazine down next to him, sitting up with, yes, confusion on his face, but also want visible there, his eyelids a little heavy. "What... right now?"

"Yeah I'm. I'm really turned on for... no reason really..." He sounds like such a winner, he thinks glumly. "And ... I have to go to work but-"

"Do you want my mouth?"

His cock twitches in his pants. It's so easy to say yes, he thinks, because he wants to, yes, he wants Ren's mouth, but--

( _You want something else more, don't you?_ )

"Just -- can I?"

"...Yes, Aoba," Ren says, with the same visible confusion. "If you want to...?"

He doesn't let himself overthink it, he pushes his pants and boxers down, draws himself out, starts to stroke himself quickly. Ren leans forward on the bed, his breath coming visibly faster, his cheeks flushing, he flicks his gaze up at Aoba with obvious questioning, licking his lips.

Ren _wants_ to taste, Aoba realizes with even more embarrassment. But he can't let him. He's too close, far too close.

( _Imagine how good he'll look. Ah, fuck, your hand feels good, keep going, that's the stuff,_ ) Desire groans.

And Aoba can't hold himself back -- couldn't even if he wanted to. He rubs himself over Ren's soft needy lips, under Ren's nose, against his cheek, and starts to come. It's fast and sharp and over with quickly, but that's fine. It's just to tide himself over, really. Heart pounding, come trailing from his cock to the outside corner of Ren's lips, he leans back.

Ren, of course, reaches up immediately to touch it.

"Don't," Aoba manages, around the pounding of his heart in his throat. "Leave it."

"...But Aoba..."

"Leave it. I have a short shift today. Four hours," Aoba says. "Leave it until it dries. Keep it there. Don't touch yourself."

Ren's eyes widen. "But I," he begins, and licks his lips again, shudder. He's hard in his pants already, Aoba sees, and he almost gives up right then and has mercy, but he really is going to be late for work. "Aoba, I--"

"I'll take care of you when I'm back."

"But I can smell it," Ren protests.

Aoba gives him a quick, unsteady, daring smile. He can't even believe himself right now. "I know," he says, and zips himself back up.

"...Four hours?"

"Yeah," Aoba says. "Be a good boy, Ren. Don't touch. Don't touch yourself."

Ren lets out a soft sound, almost a whimper, a frown line forming between his brows. The come on his cheek is dripping down to his chin, starting to slide onto his throat. Aoba sees it glide further as Ren swallows visibly. "Okay," he says. "I'll be good, Aoba."

Aoba almost doesn't let himself go to work. He wants to stay, wants to cave right now, give up and just roll Ren over and ride him. Thankfully, Tae is out today, so he doesn't have to worry about Ren not being able to use the restroom or anything else -- but it just makes it even more tempting to stay home. But he stumbles to the door, and once he's out of the bedroom it's easier to keep going, cheeks red, breath too fast. 

Working that day is too hard, though. Even if it's just four hours of work, he spends it breathless and stammering and distracted, trying to casually adjust himself through his pants far too often. Fortunately it's one of the many days that Haga is away for most of the shift, so he just sits behind the computer and keeps himself from touching himself -- fair's fair, after all, he's leaving Ren at home like _that_ \-- and tries not to think too much about Ren sitting there with come on his face, not allowed to wash it off, not allowed to do anything about it.

He feels almost high by the end of his shift, want leaving him light-headed. When he gets up, it's with a stagger, and he ends up tying his jacket around his waist to head home -- not in reverse, that'd be too obvious, but the sleeves flopping in front of him will help disguise his state, at least.

Aoba climbs the stairs in a hurry that feels almost dangerous in his current state, catches his breath and swallows past a dry throat, and calls at the bedroom door, "Ren, I'm home."

He opens the door as Ren looks up. "Aoba," Ren manages. "Welcome home."

Ren's situation is really obvious right now. His cheeks are flushed, hair messed, and his eyes have a glazed look to them. He's panting open-mouthed, too, a hint of pink tongue visible, as if that'd somehow cool him off. It sends a sharp jab to Aoba's groin that he really doesn't need -- but then, he doesn't have to hold himself off any more.

The come has dried on Ren's face in a crackly, peeling mess, and Aoba does feel a little bad about that. It must be itchy at best. But it's absolute proof that Ren listened to him and didn't wipe it off, has been smelling it non-stop for the last four hours.

"Ren..." Aoba says. He comes over and sits next to Ren, licking a thumb and leaning up to rub it across Ren's cheek, the underside of his nose, to scrub away the flaky dried fluids. "Sorry, that must have been--"

He doesn't get a chance to even finish his awkward, longing sympathy; Ren lets out a sound almost like a growl and just tackles him, pressing him back into the bed. Aoba lets out a cry, more startled than anything else, as Ren straddles him, yanking at the knotted sleeves of his jacket until he gets them free, almost tearing Aoba's belt open.

"Ren," he manages. " _Ren_..."

"Aoba," Ren says, half accusing, half mournful, "I missed you."

He shifts, rolling Aoba, dragging his pants down. Aoba's trapped with his pants around his thighs, underwear pulled down with them, ass in the air, his dick so hard it hurts. Ren nuzzles against his ass and bites a cheek, a little roughly; Aoba whimpers, hips jerking.

"I'm sorry, Ren," he says with more breathiness than actual apology. "Do you, ah, want to punish me?"

"No," Ren says, with genuine confusion in his tone. "Why would I -- I just want you. I need you."

Even as he speaks, his fingers are probing between Aoba's ass cheeks, pressing into him. Aoba groans, rolling his hips up even as his heart seems to flutter. Ren's just so very Ren, he thinks helplessly. "No, I -- I was teasing," Aoba manages, as two of Ren's fingers shift inside him, stirring up his insides. "I meant that. I'm yours, Ren. You held off so well. So... you can do anything you want to me...?"

Ren's fingers still, and he makes a choked sound, and then they withdraw. The pressure on the outside is replaced by the broader, blunt force of Ren's cock and Aoba catches his breath. Never mind lack of preparation, never mind the almost uncomfortable position, he wants this. He spent all day thinking of Ren waiting for him but he can _have_ him. Ren's spent all day waiting for him, too, and can't wait any longer. That alone is enough to make Aoba squirm.

And Ren pushes into him. That's enough to make Aoba catch his breath, jerking helplessly at the sudden thick intrusion, torn between his body's instinct to pull away just enough to give him some sense of control, and his mind's instinct to drive himself back onto it. Neither are an option however. Ren lets out a groan and just presses as deep as he can possibly go, pinning Aoba down to the bed, so the most he can do is buck against him.

He does that, that faint smallest movement that he can do, pushing himself the barest amount back on Ren so their flesh squishes together as he drives Ren even deeper into himself, until he can almost feel the pressure in his chest, in his throat, and forward again to rub his cock, just a little, on the blankets. He has no room to do anything else and staying still isn't an option.

But it's not control, and he's never been more aware of that than when Ren reacts to his small, subtle movements, groans, and begins to fuck him in earnest. Aoba can't do anything but cry out, clutch at the blankets, and let Ren take him, shoved by the hard force of Ren's thrusts, pinned down by the weight of Ren on his body. He pulls at the sheets with his fingers, grips them, but they come up; even the under-sheet gets pulled off the bed and gives him nothing to get any kind of traction on.

( _It's perfect_ ), Desire sobs inside him.

Aoba agrees. There isn't any other thought in his head right then, just the total pleasure-blurry awareness of how perfect it is, how amazing. He might not be able to do a thing about it, to control it, to stop it, but he doesn't need to, and he doesn't want to. He _wants_ Ren to have thought about him to the point he can't do anything but pound into him, panting and groaning and moaning his name, and he closes his eyes to shut off one of his senses, to just make it easier to feel this, hear the rough snags of Ren's voice over his own helpless panted cries. Ren's sweaty and his stomach sticks to Aoba's back briefly between every thrust and that's amazing too; it's like they're melting into each other, he thinks dreamily, like there's no border between them at all, like the only edge between Aoba (the two selves he already is) and Ren is pleasure, nothing but pleasure, this pounding, hot, hazy pleasure.

Orgasm takes him with a long and brutal strike, snapping through him like a jolt of electricity throughout his entire body. He hears himself _yell_ and is only grateful his granny isn't home, only grateful the veranda door is closed. He sobs out his pleasure as his come spurts against the tangled, uprooted blankets, as he feels Ren press in deep and pause and then he gets a second rush of pleasure as Ren _bites_ the back of his neck as his cock pulses deep in Aoba.

They lie together panting for a long few moments before, with another groan, Ren slowly pulls out.

"Oh my god," Aoba mutters, face down in the blankets.

"Aoba, are you -- is it okay? You're not hurt...?"

"No. Wow. That was amazing, Ren." He manages to turn his head, and knows he must be a mess, his hair plastered with sweat to his cheeks and forehead, his cheeks so red he can feel them glowing, pupils still blown with pleasure. Ren's staring at him. "I... wow."

Ren swallows and nods.

"...I have to do the laundry before Granny comes home, though," Aoba groans, and starts to push himself up a little.

"Yeah," Ren says, but pushes Aoba back down before he can get up properly. 

"Ren? C'mon... I have to go clean up."

"No," Ren says.

That only confuses Aoba more, and he blinks up at Ren curiously. "What do you -- no, I really do have to! We don't want to have to do the laundry after Granny's back and -- and you filled me up properly, so, uh, I really have to clean up-- I mean, we can cuddle first if you want, of course, just--"

Ren's cheeks go redder, but he just shoves Aoba's boxers at him. "Get the laundry started. But don't clean up."

Aoba has already taken hold of his underwear by the time he realizes Ren's meaning. "You ... want me to wear these without..."

"Yeah."

He can already imagine it. The come leaking from him as he went about the chores, sticking in the underwear and rubbing between his cheeks, over his ass. He makes a choking noise, dick twitching. "Are you kidding?!"

Ren has never looked more serious. "Since I listened to you before, you'll listen to me now, won't you?"

"Is this revenge?!"

"Revenge?" Ren's expression creases into confusion again. "I'd never want revenge against you, Aoba. No, just. It was ... something else. So it's your turn to try it."

Aoba swallows. Then, shifting carefully on his front to keep the most of it inside himself, he starts to pull on the boxers.

( _Ah_ ), Desire sighs. ( _He's become a good man._ )


End file.
